The Making Of A Man
by JoaniexJony
Summary: This is going to be a series of one shots about how John Sheppard became the man he is and his relationships with others. It will cover all 5 seasons in no particular order. Oh, as I'm writing it there will be Shep whump!6th Chapter up,a Tabula Rasa tag
1. Chapter 1

Summary: - This is going to be a series of one shots about John Sheppard. How he became the man he is, and his relationships with others. It will cover all 5 seasons in no particular order. Oh, bye the way, as I'm writing it there will be Shep whump.

Disclaimer: - Wish it were mine – 'cause if it was, I would have the boys in my living room every Monday night!

Warnings:- None for this one. Well maybe a very little bad language

Thanks to Shepsgirl 72 for the beta, I really appreciate it!- Any mistakes are mine.

INFIRMARY BLUES

Sheppard had known something was wrong since the early hours of the morning. He had woken up feeling nauseous and soon after "Ralph" and "Hughie" had pretty much been his constant companions all night, as John staggered back and forth to the head, chucking up last month's meatloaf, until all that was left was a bad case of the dry heaves. He was exhausted, sore, shivery and his head was bursting, but he didn't want or need any help. It was obviously something he'd eaten, or maybe one of those 24hr bugs, so he certainly wasn't going to bother Beckett with that. A few hours sleep, and he would be as good as new.

Later that morning, sitting on the edge of his bed, Sheppard knew work, hell any kind of activity that involved moving, was out for today. He felt like crap, and now his stupid legs had decided to let him down too, for during the last visit to "Puke Central" his legs buckled, only sheer luck preventing a face plant on the floor.

But it hadn't been 24hours yet, right? If he could just take a day off, maybe two, holed up in his room he would be just fine. Swallowing, trying to moisten his dry throat, John clicked on his radio.

"Elizabeth" _Damn, that sounded weak._ "It's John. I need a couple of days off, to take care of some uhm, personal business."

Weir was suspicious; Sheppard just wasn't one of these people that took time off, unless forced to.

"Are you alright, John? Your voice sounds a little choked, should I give Beckett a call?"

Damn! Okay, so plan A was out. Maybe if he admitted "something", then she might back off. "I'm good, Elizabeth, just a bit of a cold, so there's no need to bother Carson. Look, I have a stack of stuff to do,"_ boy that was lame, _"So as we're not facing imminent death at the moment," _nice one, John, a bit of humour never hurt,_ "it would give me a chance to catch up."

"Okay, John, if you're sure that's what you want. I'll let your team know, and I won't be in contact unless anything urgent comes up. Enjoy your time off."

Fantastic! Now he could be miserable in peace. John lay back against the pillows, trying to get comfortable, which was kind of hard, as his body ached all over and his head throbbed. A drink of water would really hit the spot, but the bathroom seemed too far away, so he didn't bother. Dimming the lights, he closed his eyes. If he could just get a few hours uninterrupted sleep, he'd feel much better…

* * *

Elizabeth loaded her tray. Looking around the busy cafeteria, she spotted Carson lunching with Rodney. It was well known the two friends met each Wednesday, a kind of tradition with them since coming here, so she waved and would have gone past, but McKay motioned her to come over.

"So, what's so important to make Sheppard take time off?"

Beckett looked surprised, but the colonel deserved his privacy. "Now, c'mon, Rodney. The man deserves a break. Come to think of it, a couple of days off, away from the lab, would do you the world of good."

Elizabeth was still a little uneasy about John herself. "Rodney, how long has John had the cold?"

Rodney looked surprised. "What cold? He was fine yesterday. Well maybe a little pale, but falling into a

hole of freezing mud will do that to you. Is he okay?"

Beckett put down his coffee. "Wait just a minute. There was no sign of mud when he came for his post mission check."

Weir felt she needed to defend Sheppard on this one. She had seen the state of him, filthy, covered head to toe in vile smelling gunge, looking totally miserable as he walked across the 'gate room. "That's my fault, Carson. It was me who suggested a shower before he spread mud all over the station, and your nice clean infirmary."

Beckett rose to his feet. "Well, he should have at least mentioned it to me. Who knows what kind of bacteria he's been exposed to? Day off or not, I'll get my bag and check on him."

* * *

Sheppard could hear the door buzzer, and really didn't want to answer. The sickness, had stopped but now he couldn't stop coughing and it was starting to get him down. Maybe whoever it was could get him some water, and snag a couple of Tylenol from his secret stash while they were at it.

"Come i…cough..." John felt like he was coughing out a lung as he struggled to breathe.

The door whooshed open, and a very pissed off looking Beckett walked in, closely followed by McKay. Carson came over, stood by the bed and stared down at Sheppard, who was drenched in sweat and clearly very unwell. "So, colonel. How is your _cold_?"

John didn't miss the sarcasm. "I'll be fine by tomo...cough, cough"

Beckett shook his head and took his vitals. The thermometer beeped showing a temperature of 102. He didn't intend to sound so annoyed, but he couldn't understand why Sheppard endangered his health time and time again. "Yes, I can hear that, son. But as I'm the one with the medical degree, not you, and I understand you neglected to tell me about your fall yesterday, I would rather have you in the infirmary for observation. Now, can you walk?"

Sheppard glared at the medic "Of cour, cough, I cn, cough, wk, cough, cough." Struggling to sit up, he swung his legs slowly onto the floor. _C'mon John, you can do it!_ He pushed himself up, steadied himself for a whole second, before traitorous legs buckled, landing flat on his knees in front of Carson. Beckett, damn the man, helped him back on the bed, his look speaking volumes…

"Marcie love, could you bring a wheelchair down to Colonel Sheppard's quarters please? Thanks. Yes, you can get his usual bed ready."

Rodney looked at his friend, concern written over his face."You look like crap, Sheppard. Why didn't you tell anyone you were sick?"

Carson felt like asking the same question himself, but the man really didn't look well, so he'd cut him a break for now. "Leave the lectures to me, Rodney, and get the colonel a glass of water please."

John squinted up and gave Carson his best glare, but the effect got completely ruined when a coughing fit started up, stoking a fire in his chest. Beckett quickly took the glass from an anxious Rodney, pressed it into his hands and held the glass steady, all the while rubbing his back until he was able to breathe again.

* * *

Sheppard looked at the IV in disgust. In his book the infirmary was for the seriously ill or the wounded, not for someone with a freaking cold! He'd argued with Beckett until he was blue in the face, literally, given his current condition, but the medic actually had the audacity to threaten him with restraints if he put even one toe out the bed. Okay, he would concede to feeling a little "off", but this was overkill, completely unnecessary, and humiliating to boot.

His father had despised illness. In his book it was a sign of weakness, and the worst form of attention seeking behaviour.

Brother Dave never had so much as a runny nose, while he on the other hand, caught every bug and virus doing the rounds, much to the annoyance of his dad. Things had been okay when his mom was still alive. He smiled, remembering the pretty, dark haired woman, who mopping his brow, sat with him for hours, and baked his favourite blueberry pancakes as a special treat. But everything changed after her premature death when John was only 7yrs old.

The following summer, he caught measles, and his father, who didn't approve of sick days, had driven him to school, only for the teacher to take him straight back home. Patrick Sheppard had been all charm and concern, but the moment she'd left, he would never forget his dad's face, but worse still the angry tirade unleashed upon him."How dare you humiliate me in front of that woman! You're weak, do you know that? Why couldn't you be more like your brother? Get out of my sight you pathetic little boy, you don't deserve the name Sheppard."

That had been the last time he'd cried. Never again did he allow anyone to see him weak or helpless, becoming an expert at hiding his pain, preferring to suffer in silence away from the prying eyes of others. John knew his father had been wrong, but that didn't change a thing, for even after all those years, it was hard to break the conditioning of a life time. He lay back against the pillows, pulled up the covers and shivered. What the hell was McKay doing with the environmental controls in this place anyway?

* * *

Rodney walked into the infirmary, chessboard at the ready. Sheppard had been pretty bummed the last time he'd seen him, so maybe a little distraction would help.

Marcie saw him coming and went to intercept. "Sorry, Dr McKay, but Colonel Sheppard isn't well enough to receive visitors at the moment."

Rodney pushed past, threw back the screens, just in time to see John convulsing on the bed.

Beckett couldn't deal with his friend right now. "Get the hell out of here, Rodney. I can't speak to you at the moment."

Marcie grabbed hold of his arm and Rodney was too shocked to resist. "What's wrong with him? Is he going to be alright?"

The nurse, who only moments before was ready to give the good doctor a piece of her mind, could see how concerned he was. "I hope so, Dr Beckett is doing everything he can. I'll ask him to speak to you as soon as he knows more."

Within minutes, Teyla, Ronon and Elizabeth joined Rodney in the waiting room, all anxious for news on Sheppard's condition. It seemed like an eternity before Carson, looking visibly exhausted, came in.

Elizabeth stepped forward. "Carson, what happened? How is he?"

"John came in with a temperature of 102, and I immediately started him on broad-spectrum antibiotics. However, the delay in starting treatment reduced its effectiveness and his temperate continued to rise, ultimately causing him to convulse. The good news is I managed to get him stabilised quickly, so there shouldn't be any long-term damage. But I won't lie to you, he still very ill, so will have to be monitored closely for the next 24 hours."

Teyla remembered John's fall into the muddy hole. "Dr Beckett, are you saying his fall caused this?"

Carson shook his head." No, love. The mud he swallowed did cause the nausea, which led to dehydration; however Colonel Sheppard is suffering severe complications associated with flu."

He could see Elizabeth and Rodney looked surprised, shocked even, that such a common illness could make their friend so ill. "As a doctor, I get this reaction all the time, but were you aware flu kills 36,000 people in the US every year? Unfortunately, people tend to say they have the flu when they're simply suffering from a bad cold, but as you can see for yourself, the reality can be much more serious. Look, I know you want to see him, so you can have a minute, but no more."

Sheppard was lying flushed with fever, his face barely visible under an oxygen mask. Only the constant beep of the monitor showed there was still proof of life. Elizabeth took his hand in hers, and whispered softy, "Get well, John, we need you."

* * *

So hot. Why was he so hot? John's whole body felt like it was staked over a raging fire, every muscle screaming in agony. What was wrong with him?

Carson was changing out the IV and saw the hazel eyes start to open. "Easy, son. Try not to move too much, as you'll be in a fair amount of pain." He raised a straw to dry lips, but pulled it back as John started to choke. "That's enough for now. I can see you have questions, but those can wait till later. Sleep is what you need right now."

John could only watch as the medic injected something into his IV and within minutes, all the aches became muted and he couldn't keep heavy lids open any longer.

The next time Sheppard awoke, he was still hot and sore , but not as bad as before. What had happened? Whatever it was couldn't be good, as he could feel the invasive catheter. Almost on cue, Beckett came over and pulled up a seat.

"How are you feeling, colonel?"

For once, John didn't try to lie. "Cr..p"

Carson smiled. "Ahh, honesty for once. Now if you had just come to me a few days ago, things wouldn't have become so serious."

John looked puzzled. "Wa...hp…ed?"

Beckett looked at his friend, who could so easily have died just because he'd foolishly kept his illness to himself for too long.

Sheppard knew that look. "Lec…re?"

"Yes, John, I'm going to give you a lecture. Do you know how close we came to losing you? And all because you failed to call me when you first became ill. As it was, the nausea you suffered weakened your immune system so badly, what could have been a mild case of the flu became life threatening when I couldn't control your temperature and convulsions started. Don't you trust me, John? Am I that much of an ogre you kept me out the loop, putting your life in danger in the process?

John saw how hurt Carson looked and felt ashamed. "So...y."

Beckett knew he'd gone too far, given John's condition. "So am I, lad, forget I said anything. Just promise me one thing. If you get so much as a hangnail in future let me know. Sometimes I don't think you realise how important you are to everyone here. Oh, I know you'll say it's your job to protect us, and it is. But know this, Colonel. It's my job to take care of you, too, so please let me do my job."

Sheppard smiled at his friend. "ys… bo...s."

It took John longer than he'd liked to start to feel well again. But thanks to good friends keeping him amused, both in the infirmary, and later back in his quarters, life gradually got back to normal.

As Beckett made his final set of checks before finally declaring Sheppard fit for active duty, John knew there was something he should have done long ago to make things right with the friend who had saved his life yet again.

"Carson, what are you doing for dinner tonight? I'd like to tell you about my father."

THE END

* * *

Please review, I appreciate them all and I really like to know what you think!


	2. FRIENDS

Summary: - A story of two friends. John & Rodney.

Warnings: - none

Disclaimer: - Wish it was mine, but it's not.

Thanks for all the great reviews to the first story, I really love reading them all. Many thanks again to my wonderful beta, Shepsgirl72.

FRIENDS

Sheppard lay bleeding on the damp forest floor, dark red blood, oozing from a bullet wound meant for me. A soft groan passed his lips, as I pressed a dressing hard against the deep ragged hole, his hazel eyes devoid of fear, searching mine, an unspoken question there, was I alright? It wasn't me bleeding to death, yet the crazy SOB was asking how I was!

Thankfully he passed out, oblivion finally freeing him from pain. Why the hell did he keep doing this? Putting himself in harm's way time and time again. Did his own life mean nothing to him? How could I be so stupid…of course it didn't, not when it came to a choice between him and us. As I watched John's blood seeping through my fingers, I knew he would do anything for any one of us, including sacrificing his own life if necessary. I feel sick, the sight of blood making me want to heave, but somehow I can't look away and as I watch, transfixed on the dark sickly mess, I remembered the day we met.

* * *

In those days, people accused me of arrogance, but what did they know? As far as I was concerned, it was a simple fact that I, Doctor Rodney McKay, was just smarter than anyone else. But this stranger appeared one day, a nobody, out of nowhere, sat on "the chair" and the damn thing worked for him in a way it had never worked for anyone else! It just wasn't fair. No longer was I the important one, it was Sheppard, a cocky pilot, with the gift, not me, and Elizabeth, well…she was all over him like a rash…

When we finally went through the 'gate, it was this simple flyboy Atlantis welcomed, not the most brilliant scientist in two galaxies. Overnight, my role changed. I became a glorified "Mr Fix It". But what do you know, instead of basking in the glory, this guy refused to take any credit for the part he played, happy instead for me and others to take the lead, protecting us while we worked, happy just to keep his people safe from clear and present danger.

I can't place how, or when it happened, but we became good friends, Sheppard and I. Now I come to think of it, that was just weird really, 'cause we were two opposites, like flip sides of a coin, but then again in some ways, surprisingly similar. The old Rodney had no friends, people were merely an interruption getting in the way of my research, a diversion I neither wanted nor needed. Then he came along, a military grunt, and showed me a side of myself I didn't recognise, daring me to take chances, taking me into his "family", valuing me as a person for who I was, not what I knew.

Looking at my friend, I remembered the times we shared, some good, some bad, never boring. But through it all, despite the snark and the arguments, one thing remained constant; our friendship. I used to think I didn't need anyone. Living on my own with a cat for company was all I wanted, but duh! What did I know? This stupid, self sacrificing…best person I have ever known, saved me from a shallow lonely life, and if we'd never met, I would have missed out on so much… Now, as I watched John bleed to death all over me, I couldn't imagine life without him, none of us could, and I hoped we didn't have to.

* * *

I saw the others approach, _What the hell had taken them so long?_ They saw the fear in my eyes, then the blood on my hands. Carson told me to let go, he would take care of him now, and did, for I knew he would. The others looked on, my friends and his, eyes full of concern, hoping, praying to "whatever" voodoo you believed, John was going to pull through.

Things had never been easy for Sheppard, not then or now. He never talked much about himself, content to let me rant, but I always guessed there was "something". Oh, I'd sneaked a look at his file and knew all about the "black mark" in Afghanistan, when he'd gone against orders, and risked his life to save a friend. But it had been after his dad's funeral, when it came to light his family had money...well…no one leaves that behind, not without a good reason.

I had a difficult child hood. Lacking in affection, with a domineering father, and in Sheppard, I recognised another survivor, _maybe slightly less screwed up than me. _He became this guy with the "hero" complex, someone who always put others before himself, risking his life, every day to keep us safe. Even now as I sit by his bed, watching the rise and fall of his chest, willing him to survive, I am thankful this flyboy came into our lives and hope he won't selfishly die and leave us to fight alone.

All of us, his friends, take turns to sit by his side, a silent vigil if you will, with the man who has come to mean so much. No one has actually said it, but I know we all share the same unspoken thought. If death does come, he won't face it alone.

It's my turn tonight, and I try to concentrate on something Sheppard would get a kick out of, if I manage to get it to work. The thought of that makes me smile, but quickly disappears, as I look to see his still figure, unresponsive on the bed. Dusk at last turns to dawn, shedding its golden glow though the window. I stretch to work out the kinks in my aching back, turning just in time to see tired hazel eyes on mine. I want to shout to the world "He's back!", but smile instead, pretending there's grit in my eye. As I place a straw to his dry lips, I know this is going to be a great day. Atlantis' favourite son, my best friend, has come home.

The End

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Hope you liked it. Please read and review - I just love to know what you think!


	3. The Runner

Summary: - Friendships can be sometimes be found in unlikely places. It's John & Ronon up next. A little Shep whump of course…

Disclaimer:- Not mine. Do you seriously think I would have kept these two off the box!

Warning: - A very little bad language.

Thanks again for all the great reviews. Also a very special thanks to my fabulous beta, Shepsgirl72 for sorting out the kinks and keeping me honest. - All mistakes are mine.

THE RUNNER

All six prisoners stood in a row, each wearing the same dark grey uniform. Long, loose tunics swamped their emaciated bodies, the matching pants hanging loose around each waist. Even if they had the strength to contemplate an escape, the thick metal weights around both wrists and ankles would have prevented it.

Ronon presumed they were all men, but it was hard to tell. The reason for his uncertainty…the masks. Each prisoner wore a silver metallic mask, completely covering their features, leaving only three small slits, where eyes and mouth should be.

Despite all his years as a runner, when he had to keep moving, hidden from sight, stealing to relieve the ever-present hunger and enduring many long, lonely nights, nothing he'd suffered compared to the plight of these poor souls. His blood boiled as he realised his friend was here before him, encased in such a mask, unable to open his mouth wide enough to make even the smallest sound.

Who knew that bastard Koyla had a brother? Not Laydon, or so he said. But Ronon had never completely trusted that guy, even if he did give them the coordinates of the penal colony where John was taken. It turned out the warden wasn't too fussy where his inmates came from. If you had money, it was instant jail time, complete with mask, for whomever you wanted, as long as the money held out. Why masks? Well…they kept identities hidden and prisoners subdued, a liquid diet soon making even the strongest man weak and compliant. Corruption was rife in Pegasus and it sickened him to the core.

How Sheppard was captured was still a mystery. One minute John was just behind him, snarking with McKay, the next, he'd disappeared, vanished as if into thin air. Despite searching for hours there had been no sign of him, only a small pool of blood beside a shattered transmitter told the story no one wanted to hear.

For six long weeks they'd searched with no leads. Each day, Ronon would vent his anger in the gym, or run like a man possessed, until tired legs buckled beneath him. Frustration grew with each passing day, tearing him apart, rage threatening to overwhelm him. Teyla, wise as always, had told him he was no use to John this way. Sheppard would need his friends to stay focused on the job ahead. To find him and bring him home to be there for him while he healed. As for revenge, that would be something to savour later, but not now.

Revenge did come first, though, the information on John's whereabouts coming from an unexpected source. Woolsey had contacted Todd, with no great expectation of help. However the Wraith had remembered a young Genii during his confinement, a young man who bore a striking resemblance to Koyla who would taunt him in his cell. It could have been a son or brother, for they shared both looks and character, and he'd always regretted missing him as he'd left...

Given the new information, Laydon, keen to keep the Atlanteans on side, investigated further and discovered Koyla had an illegitimate stepbrother called Nessan. True to form, Koyla, arrogant SOB that he'd been, had never publically acknowledged the boy as kin. Regardless, Nessan still idolised his brother, and was devastated by his death, so maybe, just maybe another man with the name Koyla had taken their CO.

These days, Nessan Koyla made a great deal of money in the "protection" business. He, with his band of renegades, terrorised small remote villages unless they were paid to stop. With no one to help, the defenceless villagers felt they had no choice but to part with what little they had to stop their misery.

Ronon, frustrated with the delay in rescuing his friend, took great satisfaction in seeing the look on Nessan's face when he arrived in Olias for payment, only to get the "payback" he deserved. Lorne's team had surrounded them, but just seconds too late, for as Nessan raised his gun to shoot McKay, Ronon had no choice but to fire. In one swift action the man lay dead on the ground, and any chance of finding Sheppard alive, died along with him. He couldn't forgive himself, and nothing anyone said helped. If only he'd just set his blaster to stun…

* * *

But life was full of second chances, as John often said, and he was right. New Intel came in about a penal colony Koyla had used, for enemies or "friends" who were of no further use to him. With no other leads, this was his last, best chance and Ronon was determined not to screw it up this time.

Ronon knew the warden only agreed to meet them when he discovered that Nessan Koyla was no longer around to pay his "bill". With no further recompense forthcoming for the prisoners in front of him, the greedy little man would have to cut his losses some way. However the fact he hadn't just handed Sheppard over to them straight away, made him feel uneasy…

Lust shone out of Warden Rois beady eyes as they roamed over Teyla's lithe form and it became clear... This odious man wanted more than money…he wanted Teyla too.

Rois, waved a careless hand towards the row of prisoners and challenged them to a "game". The rules were simple. Each of them had one opportunity to identify their friend. If they were successful, he would be released free of charge. However, if they failed the challenge then he would only meet with Teyla, alone, to discuss new "terms" under which the release might be arranged.

Rage consumed him, and he would have happily taken the good for nothing, excuse for a man, apart piece by piece. But Teyla stopped him in his tracks with a single look that said _we can do this, he is our friend. Let us at least try…_

McKay, impatient as always, didn't wait and called out to Sheppard, asking him to step forward, to give some sort of sign. His panicked voice barely steady, as it hide a silent plea_ Please John, make yourself known…_ The silence was deafening, then demoralising, when there was no response.

It was Teyla's turn next. Walking with elegant grace towards the row, she stopped by each prisoner, looking for any clue as to which mask hid her friend. But they did their job too well, completely covering both face and neck, where the telltale Iratus scar would have been. Squinting against the sun streaming in from the narrow, barred, windows, she could barely see, let alone gain any clue to John's identity, for nothing, not even a flash of hazel could be seen beyond the tiny slits.

Ronon knew this was their last chance, so he had to make it count. Years as a runner had taught him to live by instincts alone, and he called on every one of them now to save his friend. Standing back from the row he closed his eyes to focus. After a long moment, he slowly moved forward, to each man_, He was at least sure of this now, _gauging each person for height and bearing before finally stopping in front of the second last prisoner on the left. Lifting up the tunic, confirmed it was Sheppard standing before him. His scar, a warrior's badge of courage, gained in Michael's lab, while trying to rescue a friend, showed clear and proud for all to see.

Looking deep into the mask, finally he spoke "Sheppard. It's Ronon. We're here to take you home."

* * *

Later, back in Atlantis, Kellar told them Sheppard had been drugged, but he was slowly coming around. At some point in the last few weeks, he'd been subjected to a brutal beating, leaving bruised and cracked ribs. But these were healing on their own. The doctor warned that the damage to John's face looked horrific, but with intensive treatment, the sores should heal without scaring. However, the most distressing part of his condition was John's emaciated body. Prolonged use of the mask had frozen his jaw almost completely shut, preventing speech and limiting food intake to just fluids. He was being fed through a tube, but the injury to his jaw would take time, patience and some physio, but the Sheppard drawl would be heard once again, hopefully sooner, rather than later.

Ronon looked at McKay and threw him a warning glare. Rodney's face beamed red with embarrassment, and he turned away, shocked he had guessed what he was thinking.

At last, they were allowed to see Sheppard, who was lying barely moving against the crisp, white sheets. Monitors surrounded his painfully thin torso, IV's snaked out of each arm, and the feeding tube could just be seen, providing him with essential nutrients, keeping him alive. John's face was nearly unrecognisable. Swollen red lips and dry flaking skin with weeping sores covered once handsome features. Sensing their presence, he turned towards them as they approached, hazel eyes bright with gratitude, conveying the words he couldn't say.

Teyla, the mother hen amongst them, swept overgrown bangs off the flushed face with soft hands, promising a haircut in his near future. Rodney, shocked at John's appearance, did what McKay did best. Talked... He would have still been there if Ronon hadn't dragged him away.

The Satedan could see that sleep was pulling him under and so went to leave, when Sheppard's hand grabbed his wrist. John looked up, their eyes locked, and Ronon nodded in response. Words were not needed between them… Never have been. Two soldiers, brothers in arms, they understood what had to be done and did it. Never leave a man behind was a code both men shared and would always try to uphold, or die in the attempt.

Ronon left his friend sleeping, and headed for his own bunk, happy to rest now Sheppard was home. As he dimmed the lights and looked around, he was thankful he had a warm place to sleep, a home and friends, after so long alone.

Sheppard might think he owed him his life, and maybe this time he did. But it was him who saved Ronon's all those years ago, on the day they had met. Because of John keeping his word, bringing Ronon to Atlantis, he now had a family, a purpose and a brother. Someone he knew would die for him, just (as he) would for Sheppard.

One day soon, he knew John would ask him how Ronon knew it was him hiding behind the mask. He smiled as he visualised Sheppard's face when he told him it was his smell…Everyone has one, friend or foe. It was a skill he'd learned, born out of desperation, a need to say alive. His very survival had depended upon it, and today it had saved the life of a friend.

THE END

Hope you liked it. Please review, I reply to them all and I love to know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

Summary: - Just a little one shot set after the start of "Rising". Who do you chose for your team anyway?

Disclaimer: - Not mine, if only it was…

Warnings: - None

Thanks for all the great reviews so far, I really appreciate them. Many thanks to my wonderful beta Shepsgirl72 for keeping me on track - As always all mistakes are mine.

THE WARRIOR PRINCESS

John left Elizabeth's office with his head fit to burst. It had only been a few days since coming to Atlantis, but within that time, he had killed Sumner, awakened the Wraith, invited a whole bunch of new people to stay, and was now officially the new Military Commander of the base.

He could really use a stiff drink about now, but the responsibility of command came with a price. No longer would he be able to sit back and leave the decisions to others. He, John Sheppard, was now the "go to" guy, the person responsible for the protection of everyone here, and even just thinking about the enormity of it all was giving him a headache.

First order of business, to establish off world teams. With extra mouths to feed, and supplies dwindling, it was essential to get out there, make new friends, hopefully gain useful trading partners, and who knows, if they got lucky, maybe even meet a race who would help them fight the Wraith.

However, this headache was killing him, so a visit to Beckett for a couple of Tylenol, was first on his list. Walking though the crowded corridors, John dodged the Athosian kids playing hide and seek, tried to greet everyone who passed, all the while considering who to choose for his own team. The first member had to be Lt. Ford. Despite the fact he'd been one of Sumner's men, the kid seemed to like him, was useful in a crisis, not to mention the fact his quick thinking had saved his ass on the Hive ship.

Okay, one down and two to go. Elizabeth wanted a scientist on each team. The reason…to hopefully identify useful alien technology, if any came their way during a mission. He wasn't crazy about the idea of dragging a civilian along into possible combat situations, but Weir was leader of the expedition, so if he was forced to choose someone, it would be McKay. John knew the guy was a smart ass, but with some cause, for he _was _the brightest scientist in Atlantis. Okay, a little humility wouldn't go amiss, but Rodney said what he thought, and Sheppard kind of liked that,'cause at least you knew where you stood with the man, and he would rather have honesty over flattery any day of the week.

The further John walked, the worse the pain got and now he could hear (clicking). He had been stunned in the Hive ship, so maybe he'd bumped his head and not realised it? No… it definitely wasn't his imagination as the noise was getting louder and coming from the room straight ahead. Sheppard stopped just as he reached the entrance. It was Teyla...

Despite all the craziness during the last couple of days, how could he have forgotten about the beautiful Athosian? When they'd first met over tea, he had sensed a woman of exceptional inner strength and wisdom. Then in the crazy days that followed, he saw a strong, passionate leader, dedicated to her people, leading them into a new life on Atlantis without fear. Looking at her now, he realised in many ways she reminded him of his own mother. Okay…now that was weird... John certainly didn't feel the same way about Teyla as…Crap…Man, but his timing sucked... Realisation hit him like a thunderbolt. For the first time since Nancy, he'd finally met someone he cared about. But what with the Wraith, his new responsibilities, and just trying to keep everyone safe, now just wasn't the time to do anything about it.

John couldn't take his eyes off her, this new discovery completely throwing him off balance. He knew he should say something, it was wrong to stand and stare, but he just couldn't help himself, she was beauitful... Completely unaware of his presence, Teyla stood there with long narrow sticks in her hands, moving them around with grace, precision and speed. What was this, a form of exercise? But as he continued to watch, the soldier in him guessed this skill could be used for something much more deadly.

Suddenly, Teyla stopped and met his gaze with a smile. "Good morning, Major. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Sheppard could feel the blush rise in his face. "I'm sorry, Teyla. I didn't mean to intrude. But I am curious. What you were doing, is this some kind of exercise routine?"

The pretty woman laughed. "No, Major. These are called Bantos sticks. My father taught me when I was just a child. Primarily, they are intended for defensive purposes only, but in the fight against the Wraith, this skill has saved many lives in the past. Would you like me to teach you?"

John was intrigued. As a special ops soldier, trained in all methods of hand to hand combat, he was always keen to learn new skills. If Teyla could do it, surely it shouldn't be too difficult for him to learn?

Teyla told him to take off his TAC vest and shoes, then close his eyes for a moment to" find his inner core".

John didn't know what an "inner core" was, or even if he had one. But the least he could do was close his eyes to please her. After a few minutes, the lesson began.

As Sheppard watched closely, Teyla's lovely face remained impassive as she demonstrated how the sticks were used and then eventually encouraged him to attack using slow precise movements. John began, trying to follow her lead, but soon became frustrated as each strike was skilfully deflected, one by one.

The Athosian could sense his impatience."You need to concentrate, Major; the skill in using the sticks is to become one with them, in both mind and body."

But patience had never been his strong point, and when a blow suddenly caught him on the arm causing a stick to fall to the floor, he was surprised. _I can't believe it…surely I'm not going to get beat up by a woman?_ Teyla's eyes looked intense as she held his gaze, while continuing to gently punish his clumsy moves with her superior skill. Sheppard didn't consider himself to be an arrogant man, but he did have his pride, and regardless of the fact this was Teyla in front of him, there was no way, she would defeat him without a fight.

Lunging forward, John slipped and lost his footing, just as Teyla brought up her stick to defend. Almost in slow motion, Sheppard knew what was about to happen, when pain exploded through his skull, and darkness followed, as he fell unconscious to the floor.

* * *

John was in a deep, dark fog. Where was he? And why did his head feel like it was splitting in two?

"Agh!…wa...?"

Beckett saw his newest patient starting to come round. "Easy, Major. Try to lie still. You took a nasty blow to the head and have a concussion. I don't think it's too serious, but you'll be my guest overnight for observation. If there are no problems and everything checks out okay by tomorrow, I'll consider releasing you to your quarters then."

Sheppard groaned. Not only had he been beaten senseless by a woman, but once everyone found out, he would be the laughing stock on the base. What a start to his command…

"I am so sorry, Major." _Teyla!_ "It was my fault you tripped and fell. I hope you can forgive me?"

Sheppard turned around, surprised. Too fast it seemed, as the room spun, along with his stomach. Teyla reached forward, placed a bowl under his chin, just in time for breakfast to make a late appearance. Afterwards, she gently eased him back against the pillows, then took a cool, damp, cloth and gently wiped his face.

John looked up at the woman who had the heart of lion as well as the strength of a warrior. "Tha..k…u"

Some decisions, like killing Sumner, are difficult and haunt you all through life. But others don't require any thought… they simply fall into your lap, like part of a grand plan, meant to be.

Looking up at the last member of his team, he smiled. John knew his choice wouldn't go down well with Sumner's marines, but he could live with that. What he couldn't contemplate, was having a team without his very own "Zena". There was a lot Teyla could teach him, hell, all of them if they were wise enough to learn. But not just that, John knew whatever the future may hold, this woman would be part of it, and he wasn't about to miss out on that.

THE END

Please review, I love to know what you think and I always reply to every one.


	5. Conversion: A John & Teyla Tag

SUMMARY:- Shepsgirl72 my wonderful beta, suggested I do a Teyla POV about how she feels about John. So this is dedicated to her for all her help and encouragement. All mistakes are mine.

Warnings:- none.

Disclaimer:- Not mine, it would still be on air if it was…

CONVERSION

A John & Teyla Tag

The Bantos sticks felt warm in my hands as the blood coursed through my veins, their movements easy, relaxed, in time with the beat of my heart. It felt good to be free of the stress and worry of the last few weeks, and hard to believe that in this soulless room, with its stark, cold interior, I last sparred with John just before the nightmare began…

It started with a look. An intense, feral, expression clouding his normally warm hazel eyes. Then suddenly…strong firm hands grabbed me, held me fast, as he cupped my face, his heart beat rapid, pounding against my chest.

The kiss went it came, was urgent, demanding, passionate…then it was over. His eyes conflicted as they held mine, questioning…concerned, as he saw my surprise, shock even.

"That was interesting…_colonel Sheppard to the infirmary… _'You Okay?" He asked me, and though disturbed and relieved it was over, I was. And yes, it was definitely interesting, how could I have been so naive to have missed the signs? The intense way he looked at me when I caught him off guard, leaving him embarrassed, a boyish flush covering his face. The same look, unguarded that time, in the jumper, when the Iratus bug was slowly, painfully killing him. But despite his agony, all his thoughts were on me…was _I_ alright? The clues were all there for me to see, but I had been blind…John loved me, but how did I feel about him?

On the first day we met, I felt a connection with the tall, dark haired man from a land far away. Almost from the first moment, I knew that he, Major John Sheppard, would play an important part in my life, but as a partner sharing _my_ life, spending tender, intimate moments together, that had never crossed my mind…until now. I knew he wasn't himself, hadn't been since the wraith child attacked him. My first clue had been his surprise improvement with the sticks. He was too controlled, too accomplished for the laid back man who admitted to being lazy, choosing his P90 over hand to hand combat any day.

The news came soon after he left me in the gym, shattered and confused. What Doctor Beckett told us later, guilt and regret etched over his weary face, explained John's reckless act, but left me reeling in a different way. There was no cure for his condition, my friend could die, and all of a sudden I realised I loved him, but was I in _love _with him? I didn't know. All I knew for certain was that I cared for this man, who was more than a friend, more than a brother, and I desperately didn't want to lose him from my life.

* * *

The mission to the planet went badly. Lives were lost, and failure, grief, guilt, weighed heavily on all of us. When we returned without the cure needed to save him, I wanted to be alone, to marshal my thoughts. Meditation, so often my solace, a refuge in times of turmoil and stress, wouldn't come. There was simply too much confusion, too many unanswered questions on my mind. The mess was quiet as I hugged my coffee, sitting at _our_ table, staring into the night, and remembering happier times spent here, while the silvery glow of the moon cast shadows over Atlantis's tall spires, as well as my heart.

As I watched a group of women sharing their day, I got to thinking about the designation of the earth women who worked here. Some wore rings on the third finger of their left hand to denote an attachment, a commitment to their partner. I know this now, but had been curious when I first arrived, as Athosian women have no such need or desire for such material declarations. Elizabeth had explained the rings were a token of love, but also a way to denote an agreed bond, a union between husband and wife, where in most cases the woman discarded her own lineage, taking the name of her partner. I felt quite shocked that any woman would want to deny who she was, her heritage, her people, just for love. In Athos, if we decide to take a partner, a lover, it is just that. No token or bonding ceremony is needed. Love, mutual understanding and respect, is enough of a bond for us. But just for a moment I wondered… _Teyla Sheppard?_ How would that sound. To hear the words in my head, it was strange…unnatural somehow.

My thoughts were thrown into disarray as Colonel Caldwell summoned us. John had escaped, he was alone and in his current state, half man…half beast he was to be considered dangerous. The Colonel had told us to use whatever force was necessary to stop him, but when I saw my friend, still there yet hidden in his mutated body, I couldn't take his life under any circumstances. He came towards me, down the stairs, his gaze intense and I just _knew _that he wouldn't…couldn't…hurt me. That look, the same one in the gym, was written there, in his eyes, so different now and yet…still the same.

Thankfully Ronon, with the mind of a soldier, knew where John would go, and got him safely to Beckett. The kindly doctor, himself a tortured soul, wearing the mask of blame, eased John's suffering. His torment finally over, the lines of pain and anguish become peaceful, boyish even, in his comatose state. But John Sheppard, the man I knew, was no more. It no longer mattered how I loved him, he was soon going to die and I would grieve for what might have been.

* * *

Life is unexpected. Who could have guessed that I would have led my people to Atlantis, the home of the Ancestors just one short year ago, all because of one man…the man who had come to mean so much to my people, so much to me. Why did I trust him? Call it instinct, but I hadn't been wrong. John had given my people a chance at a new life and now I would do the same for him.

As he came towards us in the shrouded shadows of the 'gate room, there was something mysterious, strangely handsome about him in his strange attire, his eyes, wild, but focused. I knew it was the inhibitors pumped into his system, giving him a final chance of lucidity to save himself, a last opportunity of self-control. But as he stormed past us, unknowing, uncaring even, I missed his smile, the way his eyes twinkled as he used to look at me, and I hoped this daring plan would work, so I could see it again.

Later, as I sat by his bed, holding his scaled, clawed hand in mine, I remembered his kiss and the way his skin felt on mine, warm… firm …passionate. Beckett warned us his recovery would be long and arduous, but he was alive. We would, I would have the _old_ John back. The good doctor was keeping him out of pain as much as he could, but the retrovirus had wreaked havoc on his body and if reverting back was this painful to watch, I prayed it wasn't as painful for him to bear.

I hoped he would forget about the day in the gym but I knew, being the gentleman he was, he would not. Something happened that day, under the control of the virus, which released my friend from the shackles of his emotional insecurity. If not for that, I know I may never have witnessed his deeply hidden feelings for me. In the last few days, safe in the knowledge of his recovery, I thought about our relationship a great deal, and how I really felt about him. We were both leaders of our people. Two soldiers fighting the same cause and he was the best man I had ever known, brave, strong, loyal. But did I love him? Yes…I did. I would lay down my life for him. John Sheppard meant more to me that any man I had ever met, but was I in love _with_ him…no…if only I was.

Now, nearly three weeks after that fateful day, and John walked toward me while I sparred, his handsome features restored, uncertainty in his hazel eyes. I ended the session with a fellow Athosian because I knew he wanted to apologise, but I stopped him before he could. I saw him look at me, a question in his eyes, begging me to say, _What happened was meant to be…I feel it too. _But I couldn't and I wouldn't hurt him for the world, so I made light of it, diverting his attention to other acts done in madness, starting to walk away so I couldn't see the disappointment in his eyes.

I knew we would be alright, John Sheppard and I. What we shared was as deep as the most passionate love, but more enduring. A friendship, yet so much more. Whatever happened in our lives we would be there for each other, this I knew in my heart and I thought…hoped…he did too.

THE END

Hope you liked it, and sorry if you didn't…What can I say? It's just my take on it. But please review as I

do like to know what you think.


	6. Chapter 6

Just a little tag for Tabula Rasa. I alway's thought John remembered too much at the end of that episode...Anyway, I hope you like it, and please review. Thanks again to my fab beta shepsgirl72, for her keen eye and for sorting out my mistakes.

TABULA RASA

(A JOHN & ELIZABETH TAG)

Why did it always happen to me? Ever since I was a kid it had always been the same; I tumbled off skateboards, bikes, even jumped from my bedroom window once, all without a scratch…but whenever there was a virus, hell any kind of bug, I caught it. While Dave, dad's pet, shrugged it off like a _man, _I would get real sick…real fast. A _weakling_, running a fever for days, turning a twenty-four hour flu into seventy-two hours, bringing down the full force of dad's wrath when the doctor had to be called…

Surrounded by monitors, beeping softly, proving I wasn't dead yet, I realised nothing had changed. Here I was stuck in the infirmary feeling like day old crap, while most everyone else had shrugged the damn thing off and was back at work…even hypochondriac, extraordinaire Rodney McKay. Don't get me wrong, I was glad Rodney was okay. Sure, he could be a pain in the ass at time, constantly moaning, worrying about the least thing…but he was a valuable member of the team, plus a good friend. It was just so unfair that while he looked the picture of health I, the military commander of the base, was laid up like a freaking invalid!

To give him his due, he had looked concerned when he came to see me…kept checking the monitors, again and again, asking if I was going to be okay…did I really look _that_ bad? Now there was something else I really hated…pity. Even so, I knew it was only a matter of time before he remembered his bet. I say _his,_ because I never agreed to the stupid thing in the first place. C'mon, placing a bet on who would lose their memory first, I mean how dumb was that…how would you remember?

Anyway, the fact I remembered the bet at all proved I should be out of there. While I admit some of my memory was a bit patchy, it was slowly coming back, and I had remembered all the important stuff…including the fact it was Keller in charge down here and Carson was dead…Even before I got sick, there were some days I still couldn't get my head round that. As a soldier, it should have been me going home in that casket…not Beckett…not my friend. But the sick joke about working in the Pegasus galaxy was it didn't matter who you were, or what you did. Doctor, scientist…soldier, all of us were at risk 24/7 because so many of the dangers out here were unknown, just waiting to blow up in your face.

At any rate, there was no reason I couldn't do the whole recuperation thing in my quarters. My temp was coming down, and I could be just as miserable there, with all my things, as I was in here. Besides which, there was someone I needed to check up on…make sure she was okay. Everyone had been to see me. McKay, Teyla, Ronon…even Lorne who kept apologising for his actions during the outbreak, despite having done nothing wrong. But so far no Elizabeth, where the hell was she? I knew her bedside manner sucked, but she always came. She'd bring out those tried old platitudes, which we both know were coming, and then we would look at each other and laugh. I just hoped there was nothing wrong…

ooooOoooo

_Damn! I must have dozed off again._ I wondered how long I was out that time? Didn't matter anyway, it was time I got out of there. Stupid monitors…I could hardly see a thing past them. _Patience, John, use your instincts. Can you hear anything…any footsteps past the sound of those annoying beeps? No? Right…let's go!_

"Excuse me, Colonel. But where exactly do you think you're going?"

_Rats, I didn't even make it away from the bed…_ "Hi, doc. I just needed to take care of some…uhm…you know… personal business."

Now she was giving me **that** look."Yes, Colonel. I do know. But you have been told, on several occasions to ask for help when you need to pay a visit. Or have you forgotten?"

Hell…now she was looking at me all concerned. _I really am a shit…_"No, no…honestly, I'm fine. It's just you guys are so busy, I didn't want to bother anyone."

"If that's the case, Colonel, I could put the catheter back in if you want." _Crap… _"No? Okay, then let's get you back into bed, and, Colonel…any more stunts like that and it will go back in…understand?"

"I'm sorry, Doctor Keller…Jennifer, it won't happen again…promise. But how much longer do I have to stay here?"

"At least another couple of days I'm afraid. You still have a low-grade fever, and your latest bloods show the virus is still in your system. But you are improving, so I'm hopeful it won't be long before I can release you to your quarters."

"Great, Doc, thanks. Just one more thing, why hasn't Doctor Weir come to visit…was she badly affected by the virus too?"

_What the hell…Keller looks like she's gonna be sick. _"What's wrong? Is she going to be alright?"_ Jeez. What is wrong with the woman today? First, she's on my case, now she's fussing with my sheets like some demented mother hen. I really wish Carson was here..._

"Elizabeth's dead…isn't she?"

"I'm sorry, Colonel. Doctor Weir died a few months ago. That's the problem with this illness. Some memories come back immediately, but others…well, we don't know how and why the gaps occur. Do you want me to tell you what happened…or should I get one of your team?"

Wha? Keller was saying something…I can see her staring at me, but I must have zoned out…_get a grip John. _"**No…**Sorry, no, thank you. Look, I don't mean to be rude, but would you mind leaving me on my own for a bit? I'm feeling kinda tired and I'd really like to close my eyes."

"Of, course. I'll come by and check on you later. And, Colonel. If you need anything, just press the buzzer."

It was weird. I couldn't remember the how, why or even when…I just knew she had gone. It was written all over Keller's face and grief filled eyes, but even if her eyes hadn't told the story…I would still have known she was dead…I could feel it in my gut. Almost as if someone had stuck a blade, thrust it deep inside, then twisted it around and around. The pain was sharp, immediate, and I struggled to breathe. Hot tears steamed down my face and I wondered…had I cried the first time? Or had I pulled the stoic manly crap I usually do, shut my feelings into a mental box to be dealt with another time…which rarely, if ever, happened. I could see the nurses staring at me as they passed, wondering what I was blubbering about, but I must have really look pissed because no one was coming near. For once in my life I didn't care who saw my tears, they could think what they liked…How could I have forgotten something like that…her?

ooooOoooo

My life had been going down the pan before Elizabeth invited me to Atlantis. I remembered the day we met. Me, sitting like a stuttering jackass on the chair, while she just stared at me, excitement glowing from her soft brown eyes…boy, did she look hot. On the way back, O'Neil asked me to go with the expedition, but that chair scared the crap out of me. My life wasn't that great then, but in Antarctica there were choppers to fly, movies to watch, a decent size pool table and the officers mess sold Bud. The way I saw it, I didn't need the grief of annoying another CO, and all this hush hush stuff about crossing the galaxy…I'd never been into the whole weird sci-fi thing. Anyway, I said I'd think about it…but to be honest, looking back, I probably would have said no. Then along came Weir. For a small, dainty woman with a voice like warm molasses, she had the tenacity of a spider… wouldn't give me any damn peace. Told me I had to come…what an opportunity this was…didn't I know the gift I had?

For a desk jockey, I could tell she possessed the heart of a lion, and well, she eventually wore me down. And, boy, was I glad she did. Until I came here I was an outcast, amongst my family, even the Air Force, Where my career was, well, after Afghanistan I didn't have one. In Atlantis, I finally found somewhere where I was meant to be, and the great part was people liked me for who I was, not for the Sheppard name, or what it was worth. Thanks to Elizabeth, I found a purpose, home, friends and people who cared for me. No one, not since my mother died, had ever fought for me…except for Elizabeth Weir. I wouldn't have the life I had or be a Lt Colonel if it wasn't for her, and I owed her, big time. So, why of all things, of all people, had I forgotten her?

Sure, we had our disagreements, and there were even a couple of times I thought she would send my sorry ass home. But we always worked things out, never letting our anger spill through to the next day, spoiling our friendship. Sometimes, it was almost as if we were this old married couple, bitching with each other one minute, and sharing a cup of coffee on our balcony, laughing, the next.

Surrounded by images of her crooked smile and dark, curly hair, I wondered why we never took our relationship to the next level. There was always a spark between us, right from the first…I felt it and thought she did, too. But what stopped us? When I look back, practically everything…What with the Wraith on our doorstep, making allies…finding enemies instead, how could we possibly have thought of anything apart from staying alive, keeping our people safe. Besides, if the brass had found out…

Somehow, amongst everything that happened in those early days, our moment passed. I used to see people watching us, wondering if our early morning coffee breaks were just that…or maybe an extension of the night before. They were wrong of course…they were what they were. Just two good friends, sharing a hot brew before dealing with the business of running Atlantis, a place we both loved.

Suddenly, I remembered everything. The last time I saw her, the determined look in her eyes as she ordered me to leave, a look we both knew meant she wouldn't be coming home. Elizabeth knew she was going to die there, and I knew deep down there was nothing I could have done to save her. Fact was, it never should have happened. Elizabeth was a diplomat, a pencil pusher…she should've died of old age surrounded by a loving family…grandchildren. But at any rate, someone with a beautiful heart like hers shouldn't have died so young…at least not like that.

I'd failed her. Someone else whom I hadn't been able to save, but worse than that, I had failed the one person who'd never let me down…someone who had once saved me.

"It wasn't your fault, Sheppard."

_Damn Keller…Why can't she keep her perky little nose out of my business. Now Ronon can see I've been crying…_

"Elizabeth was filled with nanites. She'd been around you long enough, saw the way you put others first, laid your life on the line time and time again to protect Atlantis, to know it had to be the right person to do the job. On that day, she was the right person...the only one capable of holding back the replicators to give the rest of us a chance to get out alive. Elizabeth knew it…we all did…even you, and it couldn't have gone down any other way. Think about it. If either Teyla or I had been killed, we would have been just casualties of war. But you and McKay? Neither of you could have resisted their mind probe for ever…then what? All of the codes for Atlantis would have gone into enemy hands, and your planet, Earth, would have been their next target. Anyway, even if Elizabeth had escaped, what kind of life would she have had? Woolsey would never have allowed her to stay on base, and she'd probably have ended up living the rest of her life as a lab rat, locked up somewhere in the SGC."

"What the hell is keeping you two?" _Now McKay's here…great…Why can't people just leave me alone… _"Your ride's here, Sheppard, so let's get going before Jennifer changes her mind. Seriously, do you know what it cost me to talk her into giving you a two hour pass? Where the hell am I going to get Belgian chocolates in the Pegasus galaxy?"

"Thanks, Rodney, but I don't need a wheelchair…I'm capable of walking you know."

"I'm so glad to hear you remember how to put one foot in front of the other...now, just get into the chair, smart ass…It's Jennifer's way, or no way. So, it's up to you, Sheppard. You can stay here and wait for your meal from the canteen, I think it's meatloaf today… _yum_, _yum_…or it's pizza and cookies on the balcony with us."

I couldn't believe how shaky I was doing a simple thing like getting from my bed into the chair. Keller was right; I wasn't well yet, but something inside told me it was the shock of remembered grief making me feel this vulnerable. As much as I hated to admit it, Ronon was right too. If Elizabeth hadn't stayed behind, sacrificed her life, Atlantis would have been destroyed and Earth would have been next. So, why did I still feel so guilty?

Friendly faces, most of whom I recognised, smiled as I passed. It felt good to be out of the infirmary, even if it was, I finally realised, the best place for me right now. Rodney stopped at our balcony, mine and Elizabeth's, and I could visualise her standing there, the sea breeze blowing those soft curls as she turned to me, eyes lighting up with that soft, warm smile…

She wasn't there of course, just a beautiful memory tinged with pain…but Teyla was. I saw her quickly conceal her concern as she handed me a slice…pepperoni, my favourite. I took it and smiled. Elizabeth was gone, but part of me would never stop believing that one day I might somehow be able to find her and bring her home.

It felt good to be out on the balcony, with the breeze whipping my hair, amongst the people I cared about…who cared for me. I looked into the faces of my friends, as they snarked, ate pizza and I felt happy to be alive. I was a lucky man to have them, and for having known the woman whose memory I cherished, an angel who had given me a second chance at life…If nothing else, I owed it to her to carry on the work she started.

"Hey, Sheppard. Just because you're sick, don't think I'm letting you off with the ten bucks you owe me. After all, you did lose your memory before I did."

"What bet was that, Rodney? I don't remember…"

The End

Hope you enjoyed the story, and please as always review. It really does give me encouragement to keep writing.


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